Ravita Arbaron
by keepupchuck
Summary: AU SwanQueen. Regina is the CEO of Ubel, one of the largest corporate conglomerates in the galaxy and when the company's latest planetary probes reveal rich deposits of valuable minerals on the planet of Foraoise they decide to pursue profit at any cost. The only problem? The planet's ruling monarchs, Mary and David Snow.
1. Chapter 1

_Ding._

The soft noise reverberated through the otherwise silent office, drawing Regina's attention and causing her right eyebrow to raise without thought. Her fingers slid over the smooth glass surface of her desk, coming to rest on top of the pin pad that emerged to cover the alert. Tapping in her pin, Regina sat back in her leather chair and allowed her eyes to scan the information that now covered the glass-covered screen that stretched across the length and width of her desk.

Regina's eyes widened as they scrolled over the numbers and words sliding over the display in front of her. She found she did not need to finish the document before...

"Claire, call the Board. We're meeting in one hour. My conference room."

"I received the results of our latest planetary probes this morning. Upon review, we have located one of the richest deposits of ravita arbaron in history. We estimate that the total lode is several thousand tonnes."

Regina knows the smile on her face is the very definition of the cat who got the cream but as she sweeps her eyes up and down the table, she finds the look mirrored in every face present. Ubel is already one of the largest corporate conglomerates in the galaxy but thousands of tonnes of ravita arbaron would mean a significant boost in their profits for years to come, not to mention their stock prices.

"Where?"

Her mother's harsh voice cuts through the buzz in the room and Regina locks her eyes with the older woman's.

"Foraoise."

The buzz silences immediately, just as she knew it would. Ravita arbaron is doubtless the most valuable mineral known to man, used in a wide range of electronic equipment, but Foraoise is known amongst most of the galaxy as the Forest Planet. Her mother raises an eyebrow and turns to Sydney.

"Mr. Glass, I'm sure most of the board is aware but, if you would, please give us a brief summary of Foraoise's climate."

He coughs, his eyes darting between Cora and Regina rapidly before Regina gives a subtle nod. They do need to discuss this and she'd rather Sydney be the man standing before these vultures when the news is delivered.

"Certainly," the thin man stands, straightens his tie, takes a sip of water and, "Foraoise is commonly known as the Forest Planet. This is because the ruling monarchy, now headed by Mary Snow of the House of White, has long worked to maintain extensive environmental protections on the planet. The main industry on the planet is agriculture and, while the information infrastructures are outdated, their irrigation and harvest systems are renowned galaxy wide for their efficiency and sustainability. The current monarch, Mary Snow, has ruled since she was orphaned at the age of 16. She rules with her husband, David, and the two have a daughter, Emma, who will take the throne after her parents' death. The Forest Planet seldom allows foreign corporations entrance to the planet's economic systems. Their economy is socialistic with the rules created by the monarchs and their economic advisory counsel. The most prominent member of said council is Gru Mphy, a former mining executive and he has been vocally opposed to allowing outside mining companies onto the planet. Foraoise is a member of the Renewable contingent of the Galactic Congress and closely allied with nearby Midas, Nuerland, and Gorgos where the sitting King's father rules."

The room is silent for a long beat, taking in the information Sydney rolls through.

"While I appreciate that there are difficulties inherent to this... situation... the amount of ravita arbaron is extraordinary. We simply cannot pass up this great opportunity. Every monarch has their price, we just need to find theirs," says Regina confidently.

"And if they cannot be bought?"

Regina eyes her mother, considering her words carefully.

"Then we have other options. Our militia ships are within a week's journey and we certainly have the capability to overwhelm the local forces."

"Can we afford to take such measures with the Galactic Government already breathing down our neck's after the whole Concorde incident?"

Graham's question is not unexpected. Regina is prepared.

"We have contacts in Midas and Gorgos that promise us we can reach a separate agreement with their governments if the need arises. I believe we can keep any unfortunate incidents relatively quiet and prevent the Galactic Trade Commission from looking into things too deeply."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Cora's smile is evil and Regina finds herself subconsciously matching it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, apparently I am horrible at formatting. Please forgive, it's a work in progress situation.

* * *

He can see the fear building in his mother's eyes as whenever his father coughs now. Half of the village has succumbed to this new, mysterious illness and it always starts with a cough. He is used to seeing his father as the strong chieftan of their tribe, the man everyone turns to for a solution, the man who taught him to string a bow and set a trap not this... this skeleton in rags and scraps of skin. The hacking sound that emanates from the pile of woolen blankets in the corner startles him and his eyes dart to his mother's. It makes him feel helpless to look at her when she is so clearly afraid of what that cough means and he has no way to stop this disease so he does what he knows he can.

"I'm going hunting, mum."

She doesn't respond, just nods and dunks the rag in her hand into a bowl of water before bringing it to his father's pale grey forehead.

* * *

The woods are so thick Graham can't see more than five feet in front of him. Luckily, he has grown up in these woods and he doesn't have to see to navigate his way to the lake his father showed him for the first time when he was seven or the edge of the cliff thirty yards to his left. Sniffing the air, Graham notices something different mixed in with the usually overwhelming scent of pine. Again, his father's lessons and the experiences of his life clue him in almost immediately – it's the smell of fire.

With another sniff, Graham turns to the left and begins picking his way through the trees. The smell grows stronger with each step until, finally, Graham comes to the edge of the treeline and edges out to take in the view. Large machines hover in numerous spots across the valley floor that stretches for miles in front of him, some spraying flames down onto the verdant carpetting of trees. It may be the hunter in him or just the boy used to escaping into these woods but he feels instantly the wrongness of it. People are filling out of several of the crafts, gathering in a clearing near his lake, while other machines rip the trees up root and all. His eyes sweep left and right, confused and afraid.

Turning, Graham begins to head back into the forest when a strong hand grasps his shoulder and turns him forcefully around.

"Why hello, young man."

The woman in front of him wears a tight, mischevious smile and her eyes twinkle brightly beneath the bright red hair swept back from her brow. Graham feels hit gut tighten instinctively, like it did the one time he stumbled across a mama bear and his cubs. He knows what it means to look something strong and deadly in the air but this time, his father is not there to save him.

* * *

The shack they live in is too small to hide the sounds of the voices arguing in the next room. Graham isn't sure he would quiet the angry tones if he could.

"Mr. Humbert, I am only going to make this offer one more time. You can support our exploration and, in return, we will vaccinate the remainder of your population from this strain of plague. If not, we will simply wait for you to die out before we come in and mine the valley. To me, as a mother, the choice is clear. I will give you a day to decide."

Graham barely has time to back away from the wall before the woman strides out of the room, followed by her guards. He can tell his father is trying to shout some reply but the words quickly become lost amongst the hacking coughs that begin to rack his body and tear up his throat seeking fresh air. He hears his mother's soothing tone and the thump of his father's body falling back onto the mattress as he walks to the open doorway, watching the mysterious woman and her cadre of black-clothed guards disappear into the forest.

* * *

His father dies that night. He knows the moment it happens because his mother lets loose a keening cry, like a wolf in the woods calling to her pack. The tears that prickle his eyes come so suddenly he finds his face wet before he can escape the crushing confines of the house. Outside, he bends over and sucks in deep breaths of cold air, forcing his lungs to accept the frigid night air in an attempt to subsitute one pain for another. It doesn't work and Graham feels dizzy.

"Graham! Come here!"

His mother's voice calls out to him but he shakes his head in the still night and turns away from the cabin. It takes him a few more minutes to realize his legs are pumping furiously beneath him, carrying him deeper into the dark woods. By the time he reaches the clearing in the valley, he knows what he has to do. He knows that he must be the chieftan now, he must make the decision his father could not. How could he not? The bitter angry that consumed his throat reminded him of the times he stood too close to the fire and inhaled the smoke, burning up his esophagus. How could he not care enough to... How could he... Graham stilled his thoughts as a guard approached him. It did not matter what that man, that ghost had done, Graham would protect his people.

* * *

The forest fills his eyes, drawing ever closer. The ship is slowing down now and Graham finds himself wondering who was responsible for cleaning the ship's windows because they did a horrible job, leaving behind so many smudges his view feels blurred. It isn't until he feels Henry's hand on his arm, pulling him out of his spiraling confusion, that he realizes it isn't a smudge on glass. There are tears in his eyes.

"Mr. Humbert... Graham... are you okay?"

With an angry shrug, Graham snarls at the old man, "I'm fine, Henry."

It is bad enough that the planet beneath him reminds him so strongly of his own home, Graham certainly doesn't need Henry Mills, the pliable patriarch of the Mills clan on his case. He has long considered the old man a weakling, a reminder of his own father and the man's failure to protect his people or himself. Graham feels the adrenaline pumping through his veins as the ship's pilot announces touchdown in five minutes. He feels like he did as a kid when the taut line of the bow lay against his cheek, begging him for release, the kill imminent.

"Are you sure?"

The old man's voice is warm. Too warm, it feels claustrophobic to Graham who grunts and says nothing in response. He may hate Henry but the man is his boss and, more importantly, Regina's chosen advocate for this mission. They will be working together to convince these forest royals of what is best for them. Deep breaths, Graham thinks to himself.

"I'm sure. Let's just get this over with."


	3. Chapter 3

Ruby is a little surprised to see the message that has popped up on the receiver in her room is bathed in red indicated an urgent communication. It is simply a sight that is rarely seen and, as she calls out, "open message," she tries to recall the last time she had seen such a thing. Her memory instantly recalls a time maybe twenty years past now...

With her nose flared, Ruby takes in a deep drag of the night air. The forest is dark before her unique genetic make up means her eyes see farther and her nose picks up more than pine needles. The princess was discovered missing just over an hour ago and Ruby's grandmother had immediately answered the flashing red message on their communal communications terminal. Years of training to track and locate would come in handy tonight and Ruby found the flurry of activity of her family and the other members of the Wolf Brigade to be exciting. It was certainly the most exciting thing that had happened to her.

Another deep drag of night air pinged something. The very faint, almost gone trace of the smell of chocolate and cinnamon. She grinned a fittingly wolfish smile and took off into the thick wood. A half mile or so down the way, she knew her grandmother was now working her way through the trees but Ruby did not call out with a howl for help. Instead, she sped up, working quickly through the maze of trunks and fallen branches towards the pleasant scent she was sure belonged to the young princess. Emma had, after all, become known quickly at court for her love of the cinnamon chocolates the Gepetto family made.

Close. Ruby knew she was close now as the strong smell of cinnamon and chocolate began to blind in with something decidedly more human. Finally, she seemed to reach the epicenter, each inhalation making her mouth water for her own love of chocolate was not small. There, standing at the bottom of a tree, she looked around for the young girl. A sniffle drew her gaze upward where she found Emma sitting on a branch against the trunk.

"Princess," Ruby called out softly, not wanting to frighten the child.

Above, the girl's head swiveled so fast to meet her gaze that Ruby was surprised she did not hear a whoosh of wind. Small eyes met hers as the girl brought the back of her hand up and drug it across her nose.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ruby and I'm here to take you home."

"I don't want to go home."

"Why is that, Princess?"

"Momma said I have to wear a dress to the ball and I hate dresses and I hate balls."

Ruby smiled at that.

"Ah, but I have heard the Gepetto's have made a brand new chocolate creation just for you that they are bringing to this ball."

That seemed to catch Emma's attention as she turned on the branch to let her legs dangle within Ruby's reach.

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

"Well, it's a big secret, Princess."

The girl seemed wary at this answer so Ruby quickly continued, "but I have heard it is marvelous. My grandmother is friend's with Mr. Gepetto though and she may tell you more than I can."

"All right, have her tell me then."

"We will have to find her first."

Now the girl was openly skeptical of her, drawing her legs up closer to her and scooting back into the trunk.

"I'm not leaving here."

"Then I will bring her to us," Ruby stated before turning to look deep into the woods to her left.

Ruby took in a deep breath and mentally recalculated the depth of her call. When she opened her mouth again, it was to let out a loud howl into the night, a call to her grandmother. After, she turned back to find Emma's eyes wide with wonder.

"How did you do that?"

Ruby smiled, "it is a gift that was given to my family centuries ago, Princess."

"I want to do it."

"You seem to want a lot of things for a girl stuck up in a tree."

"I'm not stuck!"

"Oh no?"

Ruby lifted an eyebrow in challenge and Emma huffed. She began to move, scrambling her small body so that her arms and legs were wrapped around the branch. Twisting and wriggling, she let her legs dangle while her hands held on tightly to the branch for just a moment while she peered down at the ground. Ruby thought it certain that the young Princess would ask for help now, seeing the distance of the drop beneath her and was caught completely off guard when, instead, she simply let go and fell. Thankful for the quickness of her kind, Ruby shot her arms out just in time to catch the girl from a fall that would likely have hurt.

"Put me down! I can do it myself, Miss Ruby!"

She chuckled to be called miss given that she was only seven years older than the young girl in her arms. As she set the girl down on her knees, Ruby heard the familiar pounding of paws and breaking of twigs that indicated the arrival of her grandmother.

The message was simple though it did not lessen the pounding of her heart.

"Come to my chambers immediately, I have a critical assignment for you. Love, Mary."


	4. Chapter 4

Bored.

The only thing Emma can think of is how bored she is. Balls are boring. With a deep sigh, she slumps down a little bit in her chair and lets her chin come to rest in the palm of her hand. Her chin hits the cool metal bands of the rings on her fingers and it's just another reminder, really, of what she's willing to do for her mother. At least her dress tonight isn't one of those pouffy numbers her mother used to force her into. Tonight, it's a floor length emerald dress that clings to her in a way that makes her feel sexy even if she doesn't have anyone to be sexy for.

Bored.

This time the sigh is louder and she gets a sharp elbow to her side in response. She cuts her eyes to the side and glares at Ruby who, for all intents and purposes, looks as if she hasn't even noticed Emma's discomfort. Ruby is one of her oldest and dearest guardians. Ever since her last attempt to escape the stuffy pretensions of her parents, Ruby has stayed close and she has appreciated the woman's frankness and ability to talk her down from ledges higher and more subtle than that tree branch had been.

Bored.

Ruby continues talking with the man across from her and Emma can tell from the gleam in Ruby's eyes that she is seeking more than words from his mouth. Allowing her eyes to rake over him, Emma can see the appeal – he is tall, scruffy, and has a jawline that reminds her of the statuary in the gardens. Graham, she thinks he said his name was. Looking at him, she simply sees the logo for the Ubel corporation and finds her nose wrinkling in disgust before she can control herself and wipe the look from her face. She is supposed to be charming this man and his compatriot, the older gentleman sitting silently across from her but tonight, she seems completely unable to summon the desire to be Princess Emma.

"Fortune favors the bold."

Sometimes a comment is so artfully directed that it feels like an arrow, soaring through a crowd of competing conversations to land upon its mark. Emma feels thoroughly hit by the comment that has slipped out from the man across from her. Her immediate reaction is shock and then a tingle of excitement to have elicited words from the somber looking gentleman. She desperately wants to be anything but bored and, as she catches his eyes looking at her, she thinks this may be a path out of the doldrums.

"I have heard but... Well, who here is the bold?"

Her response is the subconciously crafted probe of a born politician. For all the disdain she bears the minutaie of her family's position, she has imbibed many of their traits. Her parents would be proud, she thinks as she offers the old man a smile. He seems too smart to make such a hard sell within such a short amount of time but-

"I'm not certain but I believe you are."

She finds herself cautiously intrigued, puzzled by his answer.

"And what fortune do I seek?

The question feels flippant in her mind but once it has worked its way past her lips she feels its deep resonance. There is no fortune left for her to seek, not truly. She is the princess of one of the galaxy's most respected planets, a graduate of the finest schools in the universe, and has traveled to every major destination known to man. What is left? The existentialist bent of her thoughts is interrupted shortly when the man laughs.

"I'm not sure I can answer that but I have a good feeling it's not in this room."

Now, Emma does not try to hide her confusion. She's not sure she could if she wanted to. Perhaps this man is senile?

"I tell you what, Princess, I find myself tired of this party. Perhaps you would escort me for a turn through the gardens?"

Whiplash. That's the sensation she has as the conversation continues to take unexpected turns but she gives a dumbfounded nod. Either the man is making some kind of joke she hasn't fully understood or... What or? She's not sure but it's been so long she since didn't know what was coming that she is excited to see where this goes.

"Certainly."


	5. Chapter 5

The food is fabulous and the wine seems unending. It isn't the most lavish welcome Graham has ever received but it is certainly towards the top of the list. The company doesn't hurt either, he admits to himself as his eyes rake over the woman sitting in front of him again. Her skin is pale as the lilies he used to gather for his mother and her lips are redder than any berry he has seen. A twinge in his stomach travels south just as his eyes trace the low dip of her dress across her chest.

"Ahem... Mr. Humbert, where did you say you were from again?"

His eyes snap up to meet hers, the fire burning low in his belly only stoked by the playful spark hidden in their blue depths. The smile that slides across his lips is genuine until he realizes she is awaiting his reply and he can't quite recall what she said.

"I'm sorry, what was that, Miss Lucas?"

"I asked where you were from, I'm certain you told me but I'm having trouble recalling."

He hadn't told her. He knows because he seldom tells anyone. Tonight is one of those nights where he can't quite tell if the reason he is holding this secret so close to the chest is his desire to keep his vulnerabilities close or his equally fervent wish to avoid the memories he has tied to that place.

"Oh, please, Miss Lucas, I'm such a bore. I'd rather hear more about you. I've heard such wonderous tales of the Wereguard here. How long do you train?"

Her face gives away her discomfort at the question but she quickly erases the small tell tale signs before Graham can fully grasp the implications.

"I must have mistaken you, Mr. Humbert," she says with a bit more bite than he would have expected from her appearance.

"I'm sorry?"

"Earlier, when the waitress dropped that plate, I could have sworn your reflexes suggested a bit of... a history of hunting but, if that were so, you would know it isn't a question of how long one trains but rather how one is raised."

It knocks him back in his chair, her response. He physically leans back, taking a deep breath as if the punch were administered with five fingers and not just words. The sensation of the hair on the back of his neck reminds him of where he is and what he is doing. Pushing a grin to his face, he searches for words. Thankfully, he is saved when Henry, to his right, stands and excuses himself. This is a surprise to Graham, Henry can usually be counted on to at least stay up until their hosts exit and with the King and Queen still laughing and drinking, Graham counted on the older man to relate to the royals. Graham stifles the urge to scowl but finds himself smiling quite naturally when the Princess states she is retiring with Henry to the garden. Good, he thinks, the old man is doing something right. By the time the two have left the table, he has his reply.

"Miss Lucas, you've caught me rather red handed. It's been quite some time since I hunted so I seem to have forgotten some of the lessons. Any chance you might take me out and remind me of the finer points?"

He gives the young woman across from him his patented saucy smirk, a look that makes it clear what kind of points he intends to work on. Rather unfortunately, he finds her preoccupied with the disappearing backs of Henry and the Princess. Frowning, he leans forward, intent on recapturing the beauty's attention when he spies the Queen looking at Ruby and giving her a slight nod.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Humbert, but I'm not feeling well. I would love to take you hunting some time but, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to retire for the evening. Perhaps if you are free tomorrow?"

Before he can reply, she has pushed her chair back and arisen. He watches her go for a moment and by the time he brings his eyes back to the table, he finds the Queen sitting in her spot. The only word that comes to mind is seamless. This group is slicker than he gave them credit for, he thinks, as he puts a smile back on his face and gives the Queen his attention. Seamless.


End file.
